Heat Storm
by Laura013
Summary: After a long day as a private investigator, Derrick Storm takes the evening off in the Club Noir. Little does he know, a chance meeting with none other than NYPD's finest, Detective Nikki Heat, will change his life. (Rated T to be safe) (Storm/Heat, Castle/Beckett)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! So basically, this is a "crossover" between Richard Castle's two most famous book series', in which Derrick Storm meets Nikki Heat in a pub. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Castle series (credit for that goes to the brilliant Andrew Marlowe and Terri Edda Miller), the Heat franchise, Storm franchise, or any of the characters**

* * *

_Ring, ring_

The soft ringing of the doorbell was set as Derrick Storm pushed open the door to his favourite pub. The _Club Noir_ was always home to him after his long days as a private investigator. Usually it was relatively empty at this time of night, besides Ricardo, of course. Ricardo was New York's finest bartender. He was fantastic at mixing and listening at the same time.

But tonight, he was graced with the company of a beautiful woman. She looked like she'd just stepped out of the 1940s, which made his old-fashioned brown suit feel justified. She wore a long black dress that had a slit up to her thigh, showing off her oh-so-fabulous legs. Her red-painted lips were parted slightly as she sat, staring into the distance. Her white gloves were so perfectly pristine that it looked like she'd just bought them on site. A white scarf was draped casually over her shoulders, but even though it was placed strategically to hide it, Derrick Storm saw the gun sticking out of the edge of the scarf. She was easily enough to take the matter of Agent Clara Strike off of his mind.

_Clara Strike…_ he did not like to think of that name. After he "died", he'd heard that she went into a deep depression. After all, she had been his lover. Jedidiah Jones refused to let her in on the stunt. Even though Mr. Jones had helped him very much, he still resented him for forcing him to keep his life from those he loved.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Her soft New York accent rose feelings in him he hadn't felt in a long time. She snapped him back out of his thoughts. He chuckled softly.

"Nah." She looked mildly disappointed, until he spoke again. "I'm buying. What do you drink?"

She smiled back at him. "Triple whiskey." He raised his eyebrows in mock shock. Triple whiskey was usually a man's drink, but he wasn't exactly expecting the fem fatale to drink an appletini. He nodded at Ricardo, and held up two fingers. The young woman brushed her long, wavy brown hair out of her pale face, her brown eyes searching Derrick Storm.

"What's you're name, sir?" She looked at him penetratingly. He opened his mouth to give his alias, Steve Mason, but something held him back. While she was hiding a gun, he felt as though he could trust her.

"Storm. Derrick Storm." She nodded softly, as though she'd heard the name. "And yours, Miss…" She smiled, with a soft laugh following.

"It's Detective, actually. Detective Nikki Heat."

* * *

"Well, Detective Heat, I must say, it's been a pleasure getting to know you." After hours of drinks with the mysterious Derrick Storm, Nikki Heat felt as though she was finally getting to know him, and she wasn't just ready for him to leave yet. Her upper lip rose in her signature smile, showing off her pearly white teeth. He let out a smile as well, though it was much larger.

He rose out of his seat, and began to walk towards the door in a stumble. While he seemed to come here a lot, he wasn't nearly as able to hold his liquor as she was. He reminded her quite a bit of her "partner", Jameson Rook. Looked quite a bit like him, too. He had that general lightheartedness about him, but one could tell just by looking at him that he bore a great burden of sorrow. He gave her that same tingle that ran down her body whenever he made eye contact with her.

"Oh, don't be a spoilsport. It's only eleven." She smiled again, and placed her hand strategically on his arm. She'd seduced countless men in this way, yet this time it felt different. It felt almost real. He smiled again, his eyes squinting as he returned back to his seat. "So… you said you were a… private investigator?" She'd always had a thing for private investigators, ever since a case she worked about a diamond necklace that was stolen by a private investigator. Reading the PI's journal, she'd almost imagined Rook was the PI and she was his girl. She chided herself inwardly. She'd only come here to forget about Rook, and that was precisely the opposite of what she was doing.

"Why yes, I believe I am. And you were one of NYPD's finest." She nodded softly, pulling her badge out from where it was strapped around her thigh. She showed it to him and he smiled again. She supposed he had a thing for detectives. "So, why'd you become a detective?" Before Nikki could stop herself, she let everything flow out.

"My mother was murdered, while I was on my way to the store. We didn't have enough cinnamon. I was on the phone with her, when I heard a noise and then she dropped the phone. She was dead when I arrived back at home." She made a small choking noise, and Derrick Storm welcomed her into a hug. She buried her face into his deep blue shirt, and he put his chin on her forehead, wrapping his arms around her lightly. Even she was surprised at his forwardness. He pulled back fast, and in a very gentlemanly way. She smiled at him and returned to her seat. He was kind enough to avoid the topic of anything murder-related for the rest of the evening.

* * *

"I'm sorry, guys, but pub's closing. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Derrick Storm had forgotten that Ricardo was there. He'd been so wrapped up in Nikki Heat's stories that he'd lost track of the time. It was nearly 2 in the morning, which was way later than he had planned to stay. He'd told his mother, Margaret, that he'd be home by midnight. _Oh how she must be worried,_ he though mockingly to himself. He stood up cordially, and offered his arm to Nikki. She took it gracefully with a smile. He escorted her outside, to find their cars parked on the street. He walked her to the drivers side door of her black Chevy, and she removed his arm from hers.

"I will see you again, okay?" He smiled again, his eyes squinting in the way that turned many a woman on.

"Okay, Mr. Storm. I'll see you again."

He leaned down and pressed his lips into hers, as a token of farewell, and then he elegantly strode back to his car in merriment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Castle series (still creds to the fantabulous team), the Storm franchise, Heat franchise, or any of the characters**

* * *

"Hey, Heat!"

Detective Nikki Heat's head shot up off of of her keyboard at the sound of Rook's voice. She'd fallen asleep on the job, for the first time in her years as a homicide detective. She supposed it was from staying out late with Storm. The corners of her mouth rose into a smile as she thought of him last night.

"Wow, that happy to see me?" She rolled her eyes as she took the coffee from the reporter. "Got any new _murders_ for me?" He lowered his face and raised his eyebrows menacingly, earning a glare from Heat.

"Nope, just paperwork. But you never seem to want to help out with that, do you?" Rook shook his head emphatically.

"What were you up to last night that has you so tired?" Rook looked genuinely concerned for her.

"Oh, just jujutsu with Don." Heat felt the need to lie to Rook, and she wasn't quite sure why. He just nodded mockingly, obviously aware she was lying, but he was cut off from further comment.

Detectives Raley and Ochoa, Roach, as Heat liked to call them, suddenly came in with smiles on their faces.

"Heat, there's a man here to see you." Following them up the elevator was none other than Derrick Storm himself.

* * *

He wore a large grin on his face and held a dozen deep red roses in his right hand. Raley wiggled his eyebrows at Heat, while Ochoa winked suggestively. Heat's smile increased to a full laugh. The only one not humored was Rook. Well he wore a smile, but it was plastered on his face, with a look of annoyance behind it. But he managed to keep his mouth shut. Out of the corner of her eye, Heat noticed Captain Montrose straighten uncomfortably at the sight of Storm, but besides that, nothing happened.

"What is the meaning of this unexpected meeting?" Heat was glad she had chosen to wear a skirt, she would have felt far too masculine in slacks. Her purple flowery blouse was tucked into her black knee-length pencil skirt, and white heels were on her feet. A white coat hung on her chair.

"Well, I have come to court you. Like a gentleman." He shot a look at Detective Ochoa, who immediately straightened and turned around, Raley in his footsteps. The smile on Heat's face grew more than she thought possible. She really did love a gentleman. She pulled her coat into the crook of one arm, interlacing her other arm into Storm's outstretched elbow. She didn't mind that it was noon, and she was obviously leaving with no excuse, and everyone seemed too taken aback to stop her. Captain Montrose had locked his door upon the arrival of Storm, but Heat took no notice of that. She allowed him to lead her downstairs.

As the elevator doors closed, she heard Rook say, "What's his business here? With Heat?" He spoke her name as though he was absolutely astonished that she could possibly have a date. Detective Ochoa's voice rose in her defense, just like it always did.

"Hey, come on, Rook. At least she's happy." Heat smiled. She really was happy.

The elevator doors closed, cutting out all sound, but not before Jameson Rook got in two more words. "For now."

* * *

A black suit adorned Storm's body that afternoon as he led Heat down the streets of Manhattan. It was almost like fate had spoken in his ear that his maroon pocket-handkerchief matched the colour of Heat's shirt. His crisp white shirt matched her shoes, and his suit matched her skirt. It was almost like they shared a closet. He shared a smile that matched hers, as well. They walked along towards the park, and came across a quiet hill. A picnic had been laid out, complete with a vase for the roses. Heat gasped. On the plates was barbeque style pizza, which was her favourite. She smiled again and sat down gracefully, pulling him down next to her.

"This is so thoughtful! Thank you." She looked taken aback. "No one's ever done something like this for me before." Storm smiled as he looked at how innocently beautiful she truly was.

"You deserve it, and so much more. A beauty like yourself deserves royalty, not some half assed boyfriend who never calls you back because he's busy sleeping with your sister, if you'll pardon my language." She smiled at him again, and took a seat. He poured champagne into two glasses, handing her the first one before he proceeded to pour his. He sliced the pizza, and served it to her like she was the queen of England. They talked as she ate, and he ate with her. The sun climbed down the hill as she poured her life story out to him, and he was really a great listener.

As Heat's thin gold watch read 6:30, Storm pulled her to her feet. "Come on, I have to show you something." He pulled her down the hill, towards the road. She tried not to splash her champagne glass as she kept up with him. At the bottom of the road, on the park sidewalk, was a white carriage, the interior lined with red velvet, attached to four white horses, ready to be rode. Storm walked down to the door, opening it for her. She stood on the sidewalk, her hand over her mouth in awe.

"Your majesty." He bowed before her. She snickered at him, but then caught her breath again. He helped her as she gracefully stepped up and into the compartment. He followed behind her, closing the door. A foolish smile strode over her face.

"What kind of old-fashioned date would this be if I didn't have a carriage ride arranged?" The horses began to move as she laughed. They rode through the city of New York merrily, pretending that no one else in the world existed. And, for just a moment, for the two lovebirds, no one else did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi everyone (if there's anyone even left reading this fic)! Sorry I have been so lazy about updating this! I've just been so busy, and I've got another fanfiction that I've been working on... Anyway, not to take up any more of your time, here's my next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Castle series, the Nikki Heat franchise, the Storm franchise, or any of the characters. (That right still belongs to the brilliant Andrew Marlowe) I also don't own the Ford car company**

* * *

As the elevator doors opened, Nikki Heat rolled her eyes to see none other than Detectives Raley and Ochoa, a.k.a. Roach, perched on her desk with unprofessional smiles and "knowing" looks. She stepped out, turned around, and pretended to step back in, but she backed out and walked to her desk.

_"Save me now,"_ she mouthed to Rook, who was on the phone with his daughter right by the door. He laughed heartily and she smiled, then made her way to her desk.

As she put her coat around her chair, she tried her best to avoid the borderline creepy stares of her co-workers. She sat down and began to fill out her paperwork, apparently oblivious to the two men sitting on her desk. After about five minutes of the silent treatment, Raley finally broke down.

"Come on, you're not even going to tell us how it went?" Ochoa punched Raley in the shoulder softly for talking, but then he nodded in agreement.

"No, I hadn't planned on it," Heat said sarcastically. Roach pouted.

"Aw, come on chica! You can tell us!" Ochoa spoke with a false accent and Heat laughed.

"Okay, I'll make you a deal. If you can do all of this paperwork by 6pm tonight, I'll tell you." Roach jumped excitedly and grabbed the paperwork, Ochoa shooting her a wink as they ran to their desks. She laughed softly. _Now I can go to my dinner date with Storm_, she thought to herself.

"Heat! Where's Rook?" Captain Montrose walked out of his office with a frown. Heat frowned and looked around. She just noticed that her shadow was missing.

"I thought my day was feeling peaceful. I don't know, Captain. Maybe he took the day off." Captain Montrose frowned at Heat. They both knew that he was avoiding the Precinct in case of a Storm sighting.  
"I'll call him. Why do you ask?" Captain Montrose looked grave.

"There's been a murder."

* * *

"_This is Jameson Rook, sorry I couldn't take your call, leave a message at the tone_." Heat sighed. Voicemail. Again. She sighed, holding two coffees, she walked towards the crime scene.

"Hey Lauren!"

"Hey, girlfriend! Is that for me?" Lauren, the mortician, and Nikki Heat's closest friend, took the second coffee from her arm before Heat could object. Heat smiled. "So, how was your date?"

Nikki Heat smiled. "Come on, Lauren, we'll talk tomorrow. We've got a body. Have you identified the victim yet?"

Lauren sighed. "No, not yet. I wasn't able to pull a print off of the body. Looks like they were burned off with a type of acid when the victim was at a young age. Most likely some kind of secret agent."

"Shame. Rook would've loved this." Heat sounded wistful, and Lauren noticed.

"Well he isn't here. Let's get back on track." Heat nodded. "Victim is a male, mid 20s, Caucasian, most likely a sedentary worker, judging by the clothes. He was found sitting in the seat of this car." Heat sighed.

"Cause of death?"

"It isn't what you think. Judging by the lack of blood, I'd say the knife was placed in his back post-mortem. Most likely some kind of symbol, like he was "stabbed in the back." I'd need to get him to the lab for further analysis, but I'd say he was poisoned, although I've found no defensive wounds on him, and no traces of chloroform on his mouth."

"Seems like we're dealing with a psycho killer." Lauren nodded at Heat's point.

"Anyway, I should get him back to the lab. Wanna meet up later and talk more _details_?" At that, Lauren wiggled her eyebrows in a suggestive way. Heat smiled.

"Sorry. Can't. I have a dinner date at 7. Maybe tomorrow morning for coffee?"

"Ooh, a dinner date! And it's the third one! Well, see you tomorrow Detective Heat." Lauren winked as Detective Heat walked back to her car with a smile on her face.

* * *

It was 5:30 when Detective Heat finally wrapped up her paperwork at the office. She checked her watch, sure that she'd have enough time to get ready. She slipped out of the office unnoticed, well unnoticed by Captain Montrose, and she got in her Ford Fusion and drove home.

When she opened the door, she stopped and breathed in the smell. She had always loved the smell of lavender. It was timeless and classy, and very ladylike. She shut her door behind her, locking it. She scanned the premises of her house, making sure nothing looked out of place, and then she continued back to her bedroom. It wasn't the largest house in the world, but it suited her and she liked it.

She opened the doors to her closet and pulled out a dress that she thought would be suitable. It was red with an A-line cut, sleeves that only covered her shoulders, and fit her tightly, all the way down to her knees, and a little past. Basically, it was your average 1940's pin up doll dress. She put it on, buckling a thick black belt around her ribs, and then she went over to the mirror, brushing out her long curly hair and putting on a thick cat-eyed coat of eyeliner and red lipstick. She brushed her teeth twice, and grabbed her small black purse, just large enough to conceal handcuffs, her shield, and her gun.

"I'm ready." She repeated to herself. Heat got in her car and drove towards the arranged meeting place.

* * *

When Heat got out of the car, she gasped in amazement. Set up for her, on the gazebo of a private beachfront location, was the nicest dinner arrangement she had ever seen. It looked fit for a queen. A violinist stood at the far end of the gazebo, playing classical 1940's music. And best of all was Derrick Storm. He stood on the lowest step, wearing a classic black 1940's suit with a red rose in his lapel, almost like he planned his outfit with hers. _How does he do that_, Heat thought to herself.

"Wow, Detective Heat. You look… beautiful." Detective Heat smiled. No one ever called her beautiful. Sure she'd had 'Hey sexy!' thrown at her on the streets before, but no one had ever genuinely called her beautiful.

"Thank you, Mr. Storm. You look very handsome yourself." He smiled at her comment, and he offered her his arm, walking her to her seat. He pulled it out for her like a gentleman, allowing her to be completely seated before he even ventured near his side of the table.

"So, Mr. Storm, if you don't mind my rudeness, I have a work question for you."

"I don't mind at all Detective Heat. What's your question?"

Heat smiled. "In your days as a private investigator, did you ever need to find someone who's fingertips had been burned off?" Derrick Storm frowned.

"Is there any way I could see a photo of this person?" Heat nodded. She pulled out her phone, and opened the photo. Derrick Storm stiffened noticeably when he saw the man's face.

"Is everything all right, Mr. Storm?" He nodded, a forced smile coming on to his face.

"Just fine, Detective Heat. I was simply reminded that I needed to get oil changed in my car. I apologise for the modern time interruption. Would you excuse me one moment?" Heat nodded. Storm got up and dialed a number into his phone.

"This is Agent Storm. Agent Deckerson is dead. His body is in custody with the NYPD." All Heat could hear on the other end of the call was mumbling, but she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. _Agent_ Storm?

Storm hung up the phone. "I really am sorry for that. Shall we get back to dinner?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi everyone (if there's anyone left alive after the millions of apocalypses that must have happened while I was not updating this) I'm ****_SO_**** SORRY**** that I haven't updated this, I was working on another fanfiction, and I wasn't quite sure about the plot line for this, but I have it a bit planned out now, and updates should come a little more regularly. I hope this is good enough for now, I'm (again) REALLY sorry, but anyhow, here it is!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Castle series (Damn. I wish I was that brilliant a writer), nor the Heat franchise, the Storm franchise, the Ford Fusion brand, nor any of the characters. **

* * *

Nikki Heat opened her eyes to the sound of the telephone ringing. She groggily lifted her head up, getting her bearings before attempting to sit up. Late-night drinking with Lauren Parry had really taken it's toll. _What the hell is…_ she looked down, trying to see why her foot was aching.

"Oh," she said out loud. A giant stuffed panda was sitting on her foot.

She kicked it off her foot, still half awake, and walked dazedly to the phone.

"Heat," she said, her voice a monotone.

The voice that responded was ever so urgent.

"Nikki you need to get down to the precinct right now!"

Nikki moaned. "Why?"

"Because the John Doe, or "Agent Deckerson", as you called him, is gone."

* * *

After throwing on her clothes in a rush and taking two Tylenol to kill her headache, Nikki Heat made her way back to the precinct. She sighed when she saw Jameson Rook wasn't sitting at his usual chair.

"Anyone know where Rook went?" she called allowed.

Ochoa answered. "I don't know, chica. He left in a flurry yesterday 'bout five minutes after you."

Heat sighed. "I'll just continue on without him."

Heat walked into Captain Montrose's office. Lauren Parry was sitting on the edge of the seat to the right.

"Have a seat, Detective Heat," Montrose said in his sternest voice.

Heat sat down cautiously, aware that her hair was beginning to fall out of her messy bun.

"Please, tell me the whole story."

And so Nikki Heat began recounting the story of Derrick Storm.

"So I feared," Montrose said. "Derrick Storm is a CIA agent that was semi-recently pronounced dead."

Heat frowned. "So then who have I been dating for the past week?" Her voice was at an incredulously high pitch.

Lauren Parry attempted to comfort the disheveled detective, but Heat shook her off.

"I can't say for sure, either it's an impostor, or he's really back from the dead," Montrose said, although it was clear from his tone he believed the former to be true. "What I don't understand, is how they were able to get the body from the ME's office?"

Lauren turned beet red.

"What is it, Ms. Parry? I need to know," he said, his voice comforting ever so slightly towards the civilian.

"Last night, after Heat found out that Storm wasn't who he said he was, we ah… we kind of went out and partied," Lauren said sheepishly.

"And?" Montrose prodded.

"And when I woke up the next morning," she started, "mykeysweregone," she said in a rush. "Am I going to lose my job?" she said nervously, looking intently at Montrose.

He sighed. "I suppose there is no reason for that. Just, be careful next time."

Lauren smiled. "Thank you Captain Montrose."

Just then, a knock came at the captain's door.

When Montrose opened it, a boy in a fancy black suit and an old fashioned captain's hat was standing at the door, a piece of manila paper in his hand.

"Telegram for Ms. Heat!" he exclaimed.

Nikki stood up cautiously, taking the telegram from the boy. He bowed, and then walked out, Raley leading him back to the elevator.

"Who's it from?" Lauren asked nervously.

Heat opened it, and then took in a sharp breath.

_"Him_," she said. "What do I do?" she asked, looking at the dismayed faces of her captain and her best friend.

"I say you go," a quiet voice said at the door. Jameson Rook was standing in the doorframe, looking more dismayed than Montrose and Parry. "You could learn something valuable from him. It doesn't have to be real."

Heat was about to viciously decline, but Montrose stepped in. "That could be a really good idea, Heat. Thank you for your suggestion, Rook. Go with him tonight, Heat. See what you can learn. Now, would you all _please_ get out of my office, I have work to do."

* * *

After 5 more hours of consecutive work, the detectives (along with Rook and Lauren Parry) came up with a plan. Heat was to go in there un-bugged but armed. She was to see what he was planning, and then get the hell out.

Heat drove home stiffly.

When she arrived, she did the usual. First she breathed in the smell of lavender. Then she scanned the premises for any bombs or men with guns. "Clear," she whispered to herself.

She locked her door behind her and walked back to her closet. Pulling out a navy blue dress with sleeves that didn't pass her shoulder, she slid it on over her body. The tight bodice of the top made it flattering, but the loose, swingy skirt hid the fact that multiple guns were strapped to her thighs. She slid her shield through the long V-neck in her dress, into the hidden pocket. She slipped on an orange-red belt and matching kitten heels. She let her hair down, brushing it and curling it, and she applied lipstick the same color as her belt.

"I'm ready."

* * *

She stepped back in her Ford fusion, locking her front door behind her again, and she drove to the address that Storm had provided her.

Since the address was about an hour away, she decided to call Lauren.

"Hello?" Lauren asked.

"Hey, Lauren, it's Nikki."

"Ooh, getting ready to go on your big date?" Even though it wasn't a _real_ date, Lauren seemed just as excited.

"Yeah, I'm driving now. I just… I…" she stopped talking.

"What is it, honey? Is this about Rook?"

"No!" her voice sounded incredulous. "Why would this be about Rook?"

"Well," Lauren said softly, as though not to wake the bear, "we all know you have feelings for him."

Turning sharply off the freeway, Heat scoffed. "I do _not_!"

Lauren sighed. "It's okay, Nikki, you can talk to me. I won't say anything."

Nikki Heat took a deep breath. "It's just… not something I want to talk about right now."

"Okay, honey, then why are you callin' me?" Lauren had a point.

"I don't know, I guess I just wanted to hear a friendly voice. I'm hear now, so I have to go. Bye Lauren."

"Bye Nikki. Good luck. And…" she added cautiously, "be careful."

"I will. Bye." Heat hung up the phone, turning the engine off. She sat in the front seat of her car and took a deep breath. _This was going to be one strange night._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey everyone! So here's my next update, a little bit faster than my previous updates (again, really sorry). A reviewer mentioned that Jameson Rook doesn't have a daughter, and that it was his mother, rather than Derrick Storm's mother, that was mentioned in the series. You made very good points, and I'm really sorry I didn't address them sooner. I gave Rook a daughter to make him look more sympathetic (and also I felt like Richard Castle would have written his daughter, Alexis, into his books, so I kind of took artistic license on that, hope that's okay. I may delve a bit further into her character, most likely I won't, but if you have name suggestions, please let me know!), and about Storm's mother, that was purely a mistake on my part, and I will do my best to fix it. :P Sorry!**

**Not to take up any more of your time, here is my next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Castle series (I wish I was smart and awesome enough to create something that brilliant), the Storm franchise, the Heat franchise, or any of the characters. I also don't own the song 'Heat Wave' by Linda Ronstadt (although for all the Merlin fans reading this I did stumble across this really cool video of Alexander Vlahos (who is a very gorgeous Mordred in season five of Merlin) singing this song in another show, called 'The Indian Doctor' (never seen it, but he's a *beautiful* singer) anyway, here's the link: www *DOT* youtube *DOT* com *SLASH* watch?v=8JaHPcgVLDk)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Palladium_, written in shining, Broadway-style light up gold letters glared at Nikki Heat, staring her down until she cowered. Her tank top style dress wasn't enough to keep her warm, and she regretted not bringing a jacket.

Stepping into the dance club, she looked quickly around her for Derrick Storm, and she saw him walking towards her, a large smile on his handsome face.

Nikki Heat shook her head quickly. _I will_ not _fall for a liar._

"Hello, Detective Heat!" he said, his eyes squinting with a smile.

"Hello Mr. Storm, it's nice to see you," she said, smiling softly.

"Would care to dance?" he asked, offering her his arm. She nodded, nervously looping her bare forearm through his clothed crooked elbow.

He led her through the crowds and onto the dance floor.

Music belted out of the loud, old fashioned speakers.

_"Whenever I'm with him_

_Something inside_

_Starts burning_

_And I fill with desire_

_Could it be the devil in me_

_Or is this the way love's supposed to be_

_It's like a heat wave_

_Burning in my heart"_

As they fox-trotted across the wooden floor, it really did feel like a heat wave. Red blood flushed through her cheeks as he dipped her. He looked towards her, concern filling his chiseled features. She smiled and nodded softly. His hands found their way to her waist and they continued to swirl, oblivious to the world.

_"Can't keep from cryin'_

_It's tearin' me apart_

_Whenever he calls my name_

_Soft, low, sweet, and plain"_

"Nikki," he whispered.

_"I feel, yeah, yeah_

_Well I feel that burning flame"_

Her cheeks flushed red again as the smile spread into a full painted grin. Forgetting her true intentions for a moment, Nikki pressed her chin into his shoulder, and his arms wrapped around her waist as he twirled her.

_"Has high blood pressure got a hold on me_

_Or is this the way love's supposed to be_

_It's like a heat wave_

_Burning in my heart_

_Can't keep on cryin'_

_It's tearin' me apart"_

Suddenly, the memories of their third date flooded back into her mind. Her eyes danced towards the ceiling, tears beginning to well.

_"Sometimes I stare in space_

_Tears all over my face_

_I can't explain it_

_Don't understand it_

_I hadn't ever felt like this before"_

"Are you alright?" he murmured nervously in her ear.

"Yes, thank you." He still looked concernedly at her, expecting an explanation. "It's just… It's all so surreal, being here _right_ now, with you." She felt the lie sting at her chest. "Thank you. For being so kind to me, and so honest."

He glanced at his feet at her last remark. While it could have been easily mistaken for bashfulness, it wasn't. To Nikki, the look was unmistakably guilt. It almost made her feel better inside. She knew it could possibly compromise her mission, but in that exact moment, she wanted to hold him accountable for everything he had done, and she felt that she had.

"I have never met a more beautiful, kind, passionate woman to spend time with, and I am grateful for every second I get with you. Thank you," he said. His voice sounded honest, causing her to well up even more.

_"Now that funny feeling has me amazed_

_I don't know what to do_

_My head's in a haze_

_It's like a heat wave_

_Burning in my heart_

_Can't keep from cryin'_

_It's tearin' me apart"_

A chorus of "oohs" and "yeahs" followed. Nikki buried her face in the crook of his neck, and he pressed his lips to her temple.

_"Don't pass up this chance_

_This time it's true romance_

_It's like a heat wave"_

And with that, the song came to an end. The final lines haunted Nikki Heat as Derrick Storm lead her off the dance floor.

_True romance?_ Was it really a true romance if it was all built on _lies_?

"Can I get you a drink?" Storm smiled at Heat, eyes penetrating her soul.

"You know what I drink," she said, smiling. He smiled back at her, walking towards the bar.

Heat saw her shirt light up and she felt a vibrating against her shoulder. Reaching into the dress's secret pocket, she pulled out her ringing phone.

"Heat," she said, her voice the usual monotone.

"Heat, you need to get down to the precinct, right now," Ochoa said into the phone.

"Come on, Ochoa, I thought I had the night off!" she exclaimed.

"No, you don't understand, there's been a development in the John Doe case. A man claiming he's with the CIA is here, and he took all of our evidence!"

Heat sighed, dropping the phone to her waist.

Storm looked at her from the bar, waving with an idiot's smile on his face. She waved back, rolling her eyes.

_"You okay?"_ he mouthed.

_"Fine,"_ she mouthed back with a smile. _"Work thing,"_ she mimed, pointing at her phone.

He glanced sympathetically.

"Hello?" Ochoa called into the phone. Heat could hear it from it's place in her hand.

"Right, sorry. I'll be there in fifteen. Try to keep the agent there until I arrive," she said with a sigh.

After hanging up, she slid the phone into her secret pocket, just as Storm walked up with two whiskeys. One was half empty.

"Have I mentioned that you look stellar tonight?" he said, sounding slightly inebriated.

Heat chuckled to herself. "I have to go, there's an update in one of my cases. I'll see you soon, yeah?"

Storm smiled. "Yeah."

"Can you get home okay? Do you need a ride?" she asked.

"Nah, I can call a cab," he said smiling. He kissed her, a little too sloppily for her tastes, and then she walked towards her car.

* * *

"Ochoa!" Heat called, walking out of the precinct elevator.

"I'm sorry, chica. Agent Jones got away, there was nothing we could do to stop him. He left with all of our case files. We have nothing," Ochoa said in defeat.

Heat sighed.

"Nikki, there's really only one thing you can do," Raley said.

Heat frowned. "And what's that?"

Raley and Ochoa glanced nervously at each other, and then they both spoke in unison.

"You need to talk to Storm."

* * *

**Okay, one more thing. Next, in Chapter 6 (or possibly Chapter 7, we'll see where my mind takes me), will be what I will henceforth refer to as, 'the infamous roof scene', a.k.a. the confrontation, but that will *NOT* be the end of this fic :P**

**Anyway, have a nice day, and enjoy my first post of 2014! Happy new year!**

**-Laura (Laura013)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: AHAHAHAHAHA I'M BACK. But really I didn't leave, just busy :P. So here's chapter 6, finally. I kinda stopped for a bit to figure out what I was doing with this fic, and I think I have a plan. So the 'infamous roof scene' that I mentioned in the other chapter, will be in either chapter 8 or 9. Just to clear that up.**

**Anyway, without further adieu, here's my next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Castle series (my birthday's coming up if Andrew Marlowe feels like selling the rights to a civilian but I really don't see that happening any time soon), the Storm franchise, the Heat franchise, or any of the characters. Andrea is mine, though. I thought I'd delve into her character, using Alexis as a base for her. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

"No," Heat said frantically.

Roach shared a look.

"What?" Heat said defensively. "There has to be another way, I… shouldn't ruin my liaison just yet."

Ochoa turned, looking intently into Heat's eyes. He wouldn't deny that she was attractive, but now he was all in older-brother-mode.

"Nikki…" He shook his head. "What else do you suggest?" he said finally, after a long pause. Raley looked down at his feet.

"We have our memory, yes?" Nikki continued hopefully.

The boys stared at her.

"Yes?"

They nodded quickly.

"Well then, let's start writing. Write down everything you can remember, try to recreate the files, I had a couple back at my apartment, I'm going to run home and get them." Looking at the dismayed looks on Roach's faces, she rolled her eyes. "Come on, we have to do something! Get writing!"

Reluctantly, the boys took out pens and pads of paper as they tried to re-create the murder files they had.

Heat ran towards the elevator as fast as she could in her stilettos, diving in with some unis and riding down to the parking lot.

On the way to her car, she ran into a familiar face.

"Rook?" she asked questioningly.

"Hey, Nikki," he said, smiling. "What'cha doin'?"

"Ah, I gotta run home and get some files from my desk…" she saw his disappointment. "Wanna come with?"

He smiled. "Yeah! Sounds fun!" He shrugged and swung a leg into the passenger side of her Ford Fusion.

After a moment of silent driving, Rook finally spoke. "So… Is this for the CIA case?" he asked intently.

Heat smiled, her upper lip curling in her signature grin. "Yeah. I thought you'd be more involved, considering how up-your-alley the CIA is…" her voice trailed off. "You okay?"

They both knew why Rook wasn't involved, just neither of them wanted to talk about it.

"Yeah… I've been a little busy, that's all. Y'know, Andrea's just graduated from high school, she needs help picking colleges…"

Heat smiled again. "Where'd she choose?" Her voice sparkled with an interest that Rook wasn't expecting.

"Columbia," he said, sharing her smile. Despite whatever Rook and Heat were going through, Nikki and Andrea were always close.

"Oh, that's good!" She said, smiling. She took an opportune moment at a red light to nudge Rook with her elbow. "Keep her close to home," she said with a smile.

Rook laughed merrily as well, and for a moment, Nikki had to hope that they were okay.

* * *

"Agent Jones, with all due respect—"

Storm sighed as his boss cut him off.

"No buts, Agent Storm! This has to be done! It doesn't matter if she's your lov—"

"Hey," Storm cut in harshly, annoyed by what his boss was implying, flushing red as he realized that he cut of his direct superior. "Sorry, sir. Continue."

Agent Jones audibly sighed, and Storm could picture him rolling his eyes on the other end of the phone. "It doesn't _matter_ if she's your lover, she has key information at her accommodations, and you need to get it."

Storm sighed. "Yes, sir," he said reluctantly, voice dragging through the pavement behind him as he walked.

"Good," Agent Jones said affirmatively. "I expect Detective Heat's papers on my desk tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir."

The phone went dead.

Storm walked briskly down the road, straightening his black tux. He came up to Heat's house, pulling a slim black device out of his pocket. He inserted it into her lock, pushing open her door.

Looking around her apartment, he called out, "Nikki? Nikki, are you in here?" in his sweetest voice. When no answer came, he proceeded with caution.

Slipping into her office, he found the papers in a manila folder on her desk. Opening it, he slipped out the papers with the official "NYPD" logo printed on the top, skimming them briefly.

They were Agent Deckerson's ME reports.

He slipped those, as well as the case papers, into his tin briefcase. He began to walk out of the door when something caught his eye.

Sitting next to Heat's (very old) computer, was three stand up picture frames. One had a photo of a woman, who was smiling. She looked like Heat, but her eyes were a different color.

_This must be Heat's mom…_

The second photo was of Nikki and an older man, who Storm assumed was her father.

The third photo is what scared him. It was of Nikki and him on their first date. He felt a chill run through his spine.

_I wish you had never met me, Nikki. And I hope that you haven't fallen for me in the way that I have fallen for you._

He heard a gasp in the room over.

"Nikki, why is your front door open?" A gruff voice asked the question.

_Damn it! How stupid of me! I left her front_ door _open? What the hell is wrong with me?_

"Damn it, Rook! They're _here_!" Nikki's fair voice echoed through the front room.

Going as fast as his nimble feet would take him, Storm ducked in the hall closet just as Nikki stormed past him. She walked furiously into her office, opening the manila folder on her desk.

After a moment of hesitation, and quite a lot of scuffling, Nikki spoke loudly. "Aw, hell! They got the files," she said in defeat.

"Come on, we'd better get back to the precinct, Heat," the gruff man said grumpily.

"Yeah," Nikki sighed. "I guess." With a final look around the office, Nikki resigned and dropped the empty folder.

The two figures walked out the hall, stepping out of the door and shutting it with a prompt 'click.'

Storm slipped out of the closet, stepping hesitantly into the hall.

That felt way too easy for him. Shouldn't Nikki have at least searched her house?

Cautiously he stepped out the still ajar front door. Why did she leave her door open? He opened the door to his Escalade, sliding quickly behind the wheel.

It wasn't until his head hit the pillow that night that he realized that he'd left his briefcase on her desk.


End file.
